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- 04/11/2015
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Broken - 6. Witch Hunt
WARNING: If you have abuse issues, this may trigger flashbacks.
This is as real and as ugly as it gets.
When small frightened men go hunting witches, they will find them, whether they exist or not.
Scotty, Nick and I all returned home from Camp Kellum with enough merit badges and points to advance in rank. There was a Court of Honor on the last weekend of June where all of our Merit Badges and new ranks were awarded. I got the Assistant Patrol Leader badge that I had been waiting for since spring. Afterwards our families all went out to Pizza Hut to celebrate.
Scotty and I busied ourselves with the number one priority of summer: money for albums and comic books. We quickly got a number of yards to cut and got gigs picking tomatoes, peas, butter beans and working in several of the vegetable gardens that our families and their friends kept.
July is hot anywhere, and it's especially hot in Mississippi. We would go out and make 60 or 70 bucks a day and come home tanned, sweaty and filthy. Our Mom's would hose us off in the yard before they would let us in the house. We couldn't rightly blame them because we would come home wearing half the garden.
Things remained tense between Mr. Rainer and me. I could feel it in the air, but I couldn't put my finger on it. I had gone from his golden boy to the doghouse in record time. Why on earth would he act that way over a blown orientation exercise when he knew full well that the coordinates on our map were screwed up?
I asked Doug about it again. He said he didn't figure there was anything to worry about, and we made plans to go to a weekend movie with our crew.
I kept in touch with Travis. It was good to talk to him. His stepbrothers were still annoying the crap out of him. He asked if Scotty or Nick's parents might go for a straight-up trade. Travis always seemed to feel better after we talked.
The July 4th weekend was a big deal that year. It was 1976 and the bicentennial that we had been hearing about since 1st grade was finally upon us. It was the biggest party any of us had ever seen.
Our troop “volunteered” to help out with traffic control at the lake where the fireworks display and picnic were going to be held. It was a big deal that lasted all day with a lot of food and games. It was fun, but we were busy and didn't get a chance to play as much as we would have liked.
During the fireworks display that night, Scotty and I were offered our first beer. Of course, we refused. We were good scouts. None of us would even think of doing anything that would cause trouble or embarrass our troop or our families.
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A week after the Fourth of July holiday, I got my first hint of trouble. It came in the form of a weird phone call from a guy named Chad. He was a few years older than Scotty and me and was a Badger. It was unusual for Chad to call me. I didn't know him very well but considered him to be a good guy.
Chad told me that Mr. Rainer had been asking numerous strange questions about Doug, Scotty, Nick and me and a few other Wolverines. Then he asked me, “Jimmy, are you a fag?”
I had heard the word, but I didn't know exactly what it meant. I thought that it meant “asshole”. Why would anyone think I was an asshole? I tried to be polite and nice to everybody.
I answered with confidence, “No. Of course not.”
Chad replied, “I didn't think so. That's what I told Rainer. Just don't be surprised if there are some questions. Answer them truthfully and don't try to cover for anybody. You'll only make it worse.”
Chad went on to tell me that he thought that I was a good kid and not to worry.
Now I was completely confused. If anyone was being a fag/asshole, it was Rainer. If he had questions about my friends or me, why didn't he just ask us?
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Things continued to be a little strange. The next scout meeting was cold. All the Wolverines were having our usual good time and laughing it up. The Badgers hardly said a word to any of us all night. It was so weird that I had a word with Doug. We decided that it must be the latest gag in our long-running prank war with the Badgers. However, in our long history, it was the least amusing.
Another week passed. Scotty and I did all of our usual things. We cut yards, picked peas and bought a new album by Rush that absolutely kicked ass. We spent half the week listening to it, blissfully unaware that all hell was about to break loose.
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When we arrived at the scout meeting the following week, there was a sheriff's department car sitting outside. Two uniformed officers were inside.
Rainer was there already, and he had the room set up in an odd formation. The meeting was called to order as usual. Then Rainer took the floor.
“Tonight gentlemen is a special meeting. I am going to call out a list of names. If you are on that list, you need to stay. Otherwise, you are dismissed with my thanks, and we'll meet again next week at the regular time.”
He took a list on an index card and started calling out names: “Doug Edwards, Brian Edwards, Jimmy Savik, Blake Tanner, Mark Hudson, Clay Hudson, Seth Keys and Randy Smith - please stay. The rest of you are dismissed.”
With that, most of the troop left the meeting. When they were gone, Rainer continued, “Over the last few months I have heard disturbing rumors and I have seen some things that are incompatible with the scouting ethic. I intend to get to the bottom of it. I have asked Sheriff's Deputies Gaddis and Calloway here to assist me with this informal inquiry. What we are going to do is to go into the room behind me here. I'm going to ask some questions. Answer them honestly and truthfully and there won't be any trouble. Lie to me and there will be trouble. I already know a lot about what's going on. Some of it is potentially criminal.”
At the mention of “criminal” everyone paled a little and looked at each other suspiciously. Criminal?
He continued, “Deputy Gaddis will assist me with the interviews. Deputy Calloway is going to sit out here with you. There are two ground rules: Number 1- you will tell me the truth. I already know most of it, so there's no point in lying. Number 2- you will not talk to each other while you are waiting out here. Understand? Are there any questions?”
Doug raised his hand, “What's going on? Do we need a lawyer? You're talking about criminal charges, and we don't have a clue about what's going on.”
Rainer got that arrogant look on his face that he saved for when he was being a complete asshole. He answered Doug by condescendingly, “Participation in this inquiry is completely voluntary. You can walk now and refuse to answer any questions, but if there are any accusations against you, you won't have a chance to answer them.”
We were all bewildered and were grateful that Doug was taking the lead on this. I was so scared that I couldn't even think.
Doug said, “What does that mean?”
Rainer looked at Doug like he was a turd on the bottom of his boot and replied curtly, “If you don't cooperate, you could be summarily dismissed from the Troop and possible criminal charges may result depending on our findings.”
I looked around the room. Everyone looked terrified. Somebody was in deep shit.
Rainer looked annoyed, “Are there any other questions?”
No one spoke up. “Good. For the first interview, please join us in the office, Doug.”
Mr. Rainer and one of the Sheriff's deputies went into the office, followed by Doug.
All we could do is sit there and stew. I caught eyes with Scotty, and he gave me his best what the fuck look. The Sheriff's deputy sitting in the back of the room cautioned us to remain quiet.
Doug was in the office for a good while. Occasionally, we could hear raised voices, but we couldn't make out what they were saying. After what seemed like forever, Doug stormed out of the office. Rainer and the Deputy following close behind him.
Doug was talking angrily, “You are fucking nuts, Rainer. Come on Brian. We're out of here.”
Deputy Gaddis stopped him, “Doug Edwards, you are under arrest for disorderly conduct.”
Doug looked at him with pure hate in his eyes as he grabbed him and cuffed our friend.
This was too much. I stood up and said, “Now, what's going on. Doug didn't do anything.”
Deputy Gaddis snarled menacingly, “Sit down and shut up. Your turn is coming.”
Brian got up and started for the door. Rainer said, if you walk, you're out.
Brian shot back at him; “You just had my brother arrested, asshole. I'm out of here, and I'm going to get my Dad. Then we'll see what's going on.”
Rainer growled, “Scotty Michaels, you are next.”
Scotty's eyes were wide and silent tears were rolling down his face, but he did what he was told. Scotty always did what he was told.
Again, we sat silently for about ten minutes as my best friend was questioned.
When Scotty left the office, his eyes were red and puffy and his face was wet. I was past scared now. I had seen two of my best friends visibly shaken and obviously in deep distress. Now I was angry. Scotty looked like he was in a daze as he walked back to his chair and sat down and looked at the floor.
Rainer called for Blake Tanner, who sheepishly went into the office and closed the door.
Another five minutes or so passed. Blake left the office, walked quietly to the door and left.
Then came something I was dreading. Rainer called for Nick Turner. I knew Nick. Whatever was going on, he was probably too scared to even talk to them.
Nick stood, but he hesitated. He looked at Rainer, then the cops and finally at me. His eyes looked trapped and frightened. Rainer grumped, “Come on, Nick. We don't have all night.” Nick slowly went into the office and closed the door.
They had Nick in the office for just a few minutes. He came back out and sat in his chair, looking dazed.
Then they called me in.
I entered the office with very mixed emotions. I was afraid of what was going on, but I was outraged to see what Rainer was doing to my friends.
Rainer and the cop sat in two chairs on the opposite side of the desk. They motioned to a chair. There were file folders and a book on the table.
I sat down in the chair.
Rainer asked, “Jimmy, are you a homosexual?”
I replied, “Mr. Rainer, I've heard that word, but I don't know what it means. From what I've heard, I don't think so.”
Rainer looked me in the eye and then looked at his notes. “During our camp out at Confederate Ford this spring, I found you Scotty Michaels and Nick Turner sleeping together in each other's arms. Furthermore, at Camp Kellum last month, I saw you and Scotty sleeping arm in arm. So I ask you again, are you a homosexual?”
I shook my head and said, “I don't know what that means, sir.”
Rainer looked at his notes again. He shifted in his seat and then said, “Jimmy, a homosexual is a person who has sex with members of their own sex. What we're asking is have you had sex with Nick or Scotty?”
I looked at my scoutmaster and the deputy and said, “I'm 12. I don't know squat about sex. Scotty is my best friend. Has been since 2nd grade. You yourself told me to look after Nick and I like him, but... sex?”
Rainer changed tact on me, “Jimmy, do you love Scotty?”
I didn't think twice, “Yeah, he's like a brother to me.”
“What is this... all this hugging you do when you're sleeping together?”
I felt hot and very uncomfortable. Somehow I felt that any answer would be wrong. “Sir, we've been like that since we were little. We get close together so we can talk and go to sleep like that.”
Rainer and the deputy exchanged looks that I couldn't read. Then he continued, “Jimmy, have you ever sucked Scotty's penis?”
I looked at him like he was from Mars. “Mr. Rainer. I'm sorry. I don't know what a peanus is.”
The deputy chuckled, “Bob, I think we'll take that as a no.”
Rainer scribbled on his pad. “Have you put your penis in Scotty's anus or have you let Scotty put his penis in your anus.”
I said, “Gross!”
Rainer made another note on his pad. He then asked, “Have you ever kissed Scotty?”
I blushed eight shades of purple. “Yeah... Lot's of times.”
Rainer raised his eyebrow and the deputy looked on intently. “Tell us about it, Jimmy. Where do you kiss him? What for?”
I paused for a moment, “Well, when he gets hurt sometimes, and he's crying. When we sleep together, we always kiss each other on the head before we go to sleep.”
Rainer asked, “Have your parents ever seen this?”
I thought about it. I scratched my head, “Well, when we were little, they said it was sweet. When we're going to sleep, they aren't around.”
Rainer and the deputy looked at each other. The deputy said, “Bob, I don't know...”
Rainer turned his gaze back upon me. “Jimmy, has Doug ever touched you.”
I laughed, “Yeah, of course. We're friends. We play ball and swim and do all sorts of stuff.”
Rainer scribbled on his pad. “Has Doug ever touched your private parts?”
I blushed. I had wished that he had, but he hadn't. “No. Never.”
“Are you sure, Jimmy?”
“Absolutely.”
“What about Scotty or Nick?”
I shook my head.
Rainer looked at me and said, “Thanks for your cooperation, Jimmy. It was helpful. I'll be getting back to you soon when we get everything sorted out. I ask that you don't discuss any of this with anyone, understood?”
I nodded my acknowledgment.
Rainer said, “You are dismissed.”
Relieved, I stood and headed for the door. Before I left, I turned and asked, “Mr. Rainer, am I in some kind of trouble?”
He smiled at me and lied. “No Jimmy. No trouble at all.”
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Scotty and Nick were very shaken by the inquiry. Scotty's eyes were puffy and Nick just had a blank stare.
I said, “Are you two all right?”
They both nodded.
“Good. My birthday is Monday and you are coming over, right?”
As quick as that, our moods changed. Nick nodded vigorously.
Scotty muttered, “Hell yeah. Your Mom always makes German Chocolate cake.”
I smiled, “Yeah, she does, doesn't she?”
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WARNING: If you have abuse issues, this may be hard on you.
I don't want to hurt you but this is as real and as ugly as it gets.
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The rest of the week and the weekend passed. After Rainer's assurances that we weren't in some kind of trouble, we kind of forgot about it. We were worried about Doug and Brian, but nobody was talking.
The Monday of my birthday came, my 13th, on a hot July 25th. It was about 10 in the morning. Scotty, Nick and I were playing horse in my driveway at the basketball goal.
We had to get out of the way when his Mr. Rainer's car pulled up.
I greeted him warmly, “Well hey Mr. Rainer. It's my birthday.”
He said, “Happy birthday, Jimmy. Is your Dad home?”
“Yeah sure. Go to the door and ring the bell. He's in the kitchen.”
Scotty, Nick and I gave up the basketball goal and found some shade in the backyard. We sat there talking, laughing, oblivious to the fact that our happy little world was about to be shattered.
We heard a scuffle in the garage. My Dad and Mr. Rainer were having heated words. I heard my Dad say, “If I ever see you again you son of a bitch I'll kill you. Now get the hell out of here and stay away from my boy!”
The three of us looked at each other. What the hell? I had never seen my Dad so pissed. Rainer cranked up his car and drove out of my life. His real influence on me was just beginning.
I heard my Dad, “Jimmy, get the hell in here!”
I ran to him as fast as I could. Scotty and Nick followed timidly behind me, cowed by my dad's tone. I entered the back of the garage and walked to my Dad.
I asked timidly, “What the matter?”
He looked at me with rage in his eyes. “So you're a little faggot now?” and he smacked me hard in the face and knocked me down in the garage. I hit my head on the concrete when I fell and it dazed me.
He then turned to Scotty and Nick and said, “You two little faggots had better get the hell out of here. If I ever see either one of you again, I'll beat the shit out of you!”
I was recovering from getting hit when he grabbed me by the hair and dragged me inside. He held me off balance where I couldn't stand flat-footed and slapped my face over and over again, screaming obscenities at me. Half of them I didn't know and the others I didn't understand in his rage.
“I let you get soft, you little shit. I let you wear your hair long and listen to this shit music.” He dragged me into my room and threw me down on the bed.
Then he started trashing my albums, ripping my posters off the wall.
I said, “Dad - what did I do?”
He answered me with a smack that bowled me over and into the wall.
“Kissing your friends. What's next, you little fuck? Wearing a dress? Sucking cock? Are you fucking Doug Edwards?”
“No Dad.” Smack. Another hit knocks me down. This time I couldn't get up.
“You fucking little liar! I'm so disgusted with you, I want to puke!” he kicked me, knocking me into the wall so hard, I broke a hole in the sheet rock. I could taste blood in my mouth.
He stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. From the other side of the door, he roared, “You stay in that room and think about the way you've disgraced yourself, and you've disgraced this family. If you come out of that door before I come and get you, I'll beat your ass.”
It took me a little while before I could get up. I tried to stand, but I was dizzy. My mouth and face were bloody. My room was in a shambles. I could hear my parents fighting angrily at the other end of the house.
I had to crawl on my hands and knees and climb up on my bed. I don't know if I passed out or went to sleep, but darkness took me for a while.
My father never looked at me the same way again after that day. I didn't look at him the same way either. What had I done? Why was everybody going crazy? My Dad had hit me. Not just once but numerous times. He had never done that before.
My whole body was shaking. I didn't know what to do.
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11
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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